As Lewis opened his eyes, a wave of pain washed over him. Every muscle in his body ached, his hands burned, and his clothes clung to him, soaked through. A pungent odour hit his nostrils—a mix of salt, rum, and grime. He blinked, trying to make sense of his surroundings.
A ship.
But not one from the 21st century. No, this vessel belonged to another era entirely. Its crimson sails reminded him of estern ships from feudal China. Yet the crew didn't match—they appeared northern in ethnicity, compact and muscular, their builds unlike those of modern men. He also noticed dwarven slaves, iron collars pressuring their necks, and cleaning the deck with fervour and fear of the petty officer.
"At this pace, we'll take a whole week to reach our target. How long's it been since we raided Hailey Road Village?" asked a gruff man in his thirties.
Somehow, Lewis knew him. Memories surged forward like a tide. The man was Arthur Will—the ship's navigator, a level 4 warrior, and one of the crew's most formidable fighters. Some said he came from noble background, but his presence on this pirate ship made it unlikely. Far from the tales of noblesse etiquette, piracy was condemned by death by the crown of most kingdoms.
"About a year," replied another voice. "We'll likely face steel this time. The idiots may be weak, but in the face of adversity, they always push back. Even an untrained militia can cause losses—and I'm not keen on burying my men."
That voice... Lewis recognised it too. Captain James H. Steel. A level 6 warrior. The strongest man aboard. And...
'No way...', Lewis thought, his mind spinning.
The man, the captain of the ship, was his own father. A pirate captain of low stature, making a living out of village raiding on the coast of the Amber Kingdom.
The settings were uncommon, but a veteran ex-player like Lewis could make the connection amidst the shock. He had entered the "Age of Steel" game. Not as a player. As a mere NPC. Any normal human being would have begun to go crazy. They would scream their lungs out or be in pure denial, in search of log out button that did not exist.
However, Lewis was different.
His brain began to make calculations.
The game was doomed. After all, it had been massively criticised for its difficulty. It was an ever-evolving game, where each decision of each player led to a different world scenario. A world that grew with the decisions of its players. If you burned a village, it would be burned forever, until it was reconstructed. If you failed to save a kingdom, then it would be erased from the map.
After ten years, the game lost 99% of its player base. The game had become the territory of demons, making it unplayable for new players.
Lewis realized how lucky he was.
Sure, he had not been reborn in a noble household, where he would be able to follow the path of knighthood with the world's most expensive elixirs in his hands. However, he was reborn in a world that was still free of demons. The invasion would begin in years, judging from the fact that the Amber Kingdom, first one to fall, was still as prosperous as it would ever be.
His thoughts, however, were interrupted.